Hello Reader,

From Author HQ

First the good news: Book 2 of the Clatterbridge series, Murder at 22 O'Clock was launched without much fanfare on September 1. Although one shouldn’t have favourites, I know, I have a particular fondness for this story. It has an unusual reveal, and a strong moral dilemma. But I’ll let you discover and, I hope, relish these features on your own. Murder at 22 O’Clock is, as always, available on Amazon.

Now we’re proofing and formatting Book 3: Murder as a Line of Enquiry. That’s scheduled to launch on October 15.

And I’m still busy doing the rewrite of Book 4: Murder, If That’s the Word.

It's all been equally challenging and thrilling.

The Wildlife of the Marina

Almost every year our two swans produce a number of cygnets. Once, they failed entirely to do their duty; and another year they managed only to come up with one. At their most productive, they laid ten eggs, nine of which survived to adulthood.

But a key part of this endless cycle is the separation – when the youngsters have gained enough confidence and experience to leave mum and dad and make their own way in the world. It’s crucial that they do so. If they don’t leave voluntarily, their dad will chase them away. And if they resist, he will not scruple to kill them – a very sad outcome that has only happened once in the last seven years.

This year, our swans had four offspring. They hatched in mid-May. By August they were fully grown, indeed they were bigger than mum and dad, although they still had juvenile plumage – a melange of ash-grey brown and white. Last week we realised that we hadn’t seen them for a few days, and I wondered whether they’d already moved to their own accommodation. But then Caroline, our neighbour, reported seeing them, entirely on their own, dipping their heads into the water in the river adjoining the lake.

They were, in short, practising what it was like to be fully independent, cooking their own meals, making their own beds.

Next, they’ll head for the Embankment in town, where dozens of young swans go to promenade and seek a mate.

Story Seeds

A young man – eighteen, possibly nineteen – living on another pontoon set off an explosion of alarm and consternation recently when he and a friend were observed shooting a pellet gun within the precincts of the marina. The pontoon WhatsApp group shot messages back and forth, seeking clarification: had the boys been shooting at the birds, did their parents know and/or approve, had the police been called … and on and on.

Well, you could call it a storm in a teacup, of course. Or you could, as a writer, use it as a very nice subplot. Or, thinking more laterally, I could use it to highlight the distinct personalities on the marina. You can have the neighbourhood watch zealot who wants to form a vigilante flotilla, the laid-back liveaboard who tells everyone to chill out, and the conspiracy theorist convinced it's a prelude to a wider crime wave. Or you could use it simply as social hum in the background.

Incidents like this make my life as a writer infinitely easier.

Clatterbridge at Large

This is a very early draft of a scene that won’t even make it to the first draft of a novel that for the most part hasn’t been written yet. The story will be a classic ‘locked room’ murder taking place on The Pilgrim’s Progress, a wide-beam tourist boat moored in Abbey Marina. It is booked for a hen party, travels upriver for an hour and a half, moors for a bit, then comes back. Naturally, a lot of alcohol is consumed. The big surprise is that, on mooring back in the marina, one of the women on board is found dead. No one boarded the boat, or left it, on its journey up and down the river. So the question that both the police and James and Inky have to answer is, as always: whodunnit?

I was playing with a scene in which James interviews two of the young women who’d been present on the boat:

By the time I got the two of them alone in the garden, the last stragglers from the wedding party were being shepherded off toward taxis by one of the marina volunteers, clipboard under his arm, visibly shaken by the events of the past couple of hours. I couldn't blame him. He'd signed up, I imagine, for an afternoon of gentle ferrying, not this.

Clare and Honour were sitting on a picnic bench that still had somebody's abandoned prosecco flute standing sentinel at one end, and the fairy lights along the pub's eaves chose that exact moment to come on, which struck me – I'll admit this is not a wholly rational response to fairy lights – as a small unkindness. That the evening should be so pretty.

‘I keep thinking,’ Clare said, before I'd asked anything, ‘that if I'd looked over. Just looked over.’

‘You wouldn't have known,’ Honour said. She sounded exhausted. Well, given that a murder had been committed in her presence, albeit without her realising, it wasn’t surprising.

‘I might have known something was wrong.’

‘You'd have thought she was asleep. Everyone thought she was asleep.’ Honour turned to me. ‘She does that. Did that. Fell asleep sitting up in one of those photo booths once.’

I wondered whether she might have suffered from narcolepsy. I made a mental note to check.

‘How long, would you say, before anyone actually went over to check on her?’ I asked. ‘From when people first noticed she'd gone quiet.’

Clare looked at Honour. ‘I don't know. Nobody was really noticing her, that's the thing. She was just – there. Asleep in the corner. You don't clock how long someone's been asleep, you just clock that they are.’

‘The music was so loud you couldn't hear yourself, let alone—'

I didn’t get much more from them, although we went on talking until their taxi arrived to take them home. There was no one near her corner of the saloon. Nothing wrong with the punch, though God, said Honour, it was strong enough to hide a multitude of sins – and heard herself say it, and went white. No argument, no strange behaviour, nothing you'd have remarked on at the time.

‘We've known her since we were eleven,’ Clare said, apropos of nothing I'd asked. ‘Since primary. I've been trying to remember what the last thing I said to her was, or the last thing she said to me.’

Her eyes glistened in the fading light. Honour's hand found Clare's without either of them looking down.

I asked, because it needed asking and there was no way to ask it that wouldn't be cruel, whether either of them could think of anyone who'd wanted to hurt her. Clare's look was closer to pity than anger.

‘She was going to be matron of honour,’ she said. Her chin came up a fraction on the word matron. ‘In three weeks. She had the dress fitting on Tuesday.’

That didn’t really answer my question. Implicit in her response was an unspoken protest: who could possibly want to kill a matron of honour just days before the wedding?

Back in Author HQ, I'm thinking about the dead matron of honour, a locked room tourist boat, and a punch strong enough to hide a multitude of sins – the pieces are all there, even if James hasn't put them together just yet.

Richard / RJ Beynon

🎁 SPECIAL PROMO: Book 1 is FREE for three days only!

Whether you haven't started the series yet or want to recommend James Clatterbridge to a friend, now is the time! You can download Murder as a Working Hypothesis for FREE on Amazon for three days only (September 9, 10 & 11).
​Already read and enjoyed Book 1? Leaving a quick, one-sentence review on Amazon makes a massive difference for independent authors like me and helps other mystery readers discover James and Inky!

Download Book 1 for FREE on Amazon

🔎 Book 2 is officially live!

Murder at 22 O’Clock launched on September 1! If you’ve finished Book 1 and are ready for James’s next case, you can get your copy of Murder at 22 O'Clock on Amazon today.

Get Murder at 22 O'Clock

📚 Want to read book 3 before anyone else? (ARC readers wanted)

Book 3, Murder as a Line of Enquiry, is set to launch on October 15!

We are looking for a small, dedicated group of Advance Review Copy (ARC) readers who would love to read an early digital copy in exchange for an honest review on Amazon around launch day.

If you’d like to join James and Inky’s advance review team, simply reply to this email with 'ARC' in the subject line, and Trish will set up.

Or, if you prefer to wait for the official release, you can pre-order Murder as a Line of Enquiry on Amazon today.

Pre-Order Book 3 on Amazon

P.S. Looking for your next cozy mystery read or know someone who is?

Murder as a Matter of Taste is featured in a wonderful multi-author BookFunnel Cozy Mystery Promo this month! If you have a friend who loves a good riverside mystery, send them over to grab our free novella here. Or, if you’re looking to stock your own Kindle with new cozy sleuths alongside James, scroll through the promo list and treat yourself!

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